That moment you realise you're kinda old


K let's just start by saying I'm in a waaaaay better place than when I last got my blog on. Literally in fact because this post comes to you from our very own flat! Shit it was satisfying unsubscribing from all the Trademe property mailing lists. No more turning up to viewings and feeling like you've been punched in the chest when you see the other eighty or so other people also wanting in. 

Amazingly, we've managed to find a wee gem set right in amongst native bush with sweet landlords and great neighbours (thus far, I mean we've met them for all of five minutes but they're Irish so I have high hopes we'll be BBFs) all in a dreamy hood. So dreamy that we can walk five minutes and take our pick from around ten brunch-worthy cafes and last night had a wee date at the local Japanese restaurant who's Teriyaki fish was perfection. Oh and did I mention we can see the freakin ocean from our bedroom?! It makes the whole renting deal a lot more palatable when you're in a location that you'd never be able to afford to buy in. 

Case and point - long black from cute cafe down the road, Fika with Me

Long black

It's been a bit of a mission to get unpacked given that all our belongings have been gathering dust in my parents shed for the past three years. So the process has gone like this: 

Step 1: Open box.
Step 2: Spend hours pulling stuff out of box and reminiscing.
Step 3: Realise most of what's in box isn't actually necessary/we don't have room for it. 
Step 4: Toss the vast majority back into box for op shop down the road. 
Step 5: Go shopping. 

Funny what you hold onto (a lot of sentimental crap) and even more funny what you decide to biff when you head off overseas on adventures (quite nice furniture that we're now having to spend loads on replacing LO bloody L). 

Needless to say our new best mate is Kmart. The number of hours we've spent in that homewares department in the past few weeks would be a little disturbing to my twenty something self. Now though, I actually get excited about the prospect of heading there - even on a Saturday evening (may or may not have done that last night). There's just something about a well organised kitchen area that is so great at this point in my life. 

Here's our Cool Brittania corner aka shrine to good times in London (never mind the John Lennon Matryoshka doll is actually from Budapest)...

Cool Brittania

The blonde kiwi has been having a whale of a time building our flat pack furniture too - it's basically lego for grown ups. In fact, this whole setup is a bit like what you do when you're kids playing house. We are hard wired to want to nest so we're embracing it, lame nights in and all. It's crazy to think how different our lives were less than a year ago in London. We've traded in the weekend trips to Denmark and Sweden for trips to stores that have 'Scandi' style fittings.

It's a remarkable thing how depending on where you're at in your life, you go from lusting after experiences and adventure to craving material things and stability. Ok I realise now that I'm sounding like a complete nana and just want to put a disclaimer out there that I certainly still have a bit of wanderlust in me. For now though, after three years of having just a few suitcases to our names it's a wee bit exciting to be drinking Negronis out of our very own glasses, eating chips out of our very own beautiful bowl that we picked up on our travels, while chilling on very our own floor... the bloody couch still hasn't been delivered. You'll probably hear the squeals of delight coming from our house the day that thing arrives.   

So a toast - to being home, in a home. And to Kmart. Bloody love you Kmart. 

Floor aperitivo

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